Modern guitar god Ty Segall goes acoustic! Are his songwriting chops up to the task of justifying an album's worth of songs, absent the massive force multiplier that his garage armageddon guitar sound brings? Eh. The lyrics still twist about, simplicity lightly barbed, all about the general and the universal and life and love in abstraction. And the riffs are kind of there, with that start-stop immediacy. But its telling that the album's second best moment is the throttling one-chord electric beating that leads into the climax of The Man Man. Without that guitar energy, Segall's reedy voice and good-not-great songwriting just don't have any punch to them and they fail to get the blood pumping.
One exception: the best moment on the album is its entire last song, a gorgeous, chord-perfect, treasure of acoustic guitar longing. Stuff a bit more of that on the next one and you might be onto something - in the meantime, don't quit your day/night/where-do-you-find-the-time-to-be-this-fucking-prolific job 3/5
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment